Three's a Crowd
by Tw1st
Summary: Spock/Kirk Slash one-shot


Nyota Uhura sat alone at the foot of a very stiff bed, absent-mindedly twisting the tip of a long black tail of hair in-between her fingertips. Every now and then her eyes would flick onto the bedside table where a slow-moving electric clock occasionally turned from minute to minute – too slow for her patience but too quickly for her ever-growing anxiety. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was racing to remember if she had mentioned her planned arrival to Spock beforehand, or if she was becoming so accustomed and comfortable with their _relationship_ that she had made the subconscious decision to come and go as she pleased.

Relationship.

Was that a suitable label for what they shared? Uhura knew that she loved him. She had never fallen in love with anyone other than the half-Vulcan and the feelings on her part had taken some time to surface, but she was certain that she did. Surely that wasn't a one-sided emotion - he loved her on whatever Vulcan level of emotion he could muster.

Forcing herself to look at somewhere – anywhere – other than the clock, Uhura shifted her weight at the edge of the bed and glanced around the very familiar room of the Enterprise ship. If she hadn't known better she would think the room was uninhabited and waiting for someone to take claim of it. The walls were bare, the tables were empty, the floor was immaculately clean – and she couldn't decide if she thought it was a Vulcan part of him that indulged in such barren surroundings, or if it was an anal neat-freak human part.

_That_ was the allure of Spock. He was the soul and spirit of a human and the form of a calm, intelligent Vulcan all wrapped into one majestic shell. He was handsome like a human man and undeniably, mysteriously sexy in an un-touched alien way. There were so many contradicting, amazing things about him that were physically and emotionally forced together to create an exotic, lovely creature. A creature that _loved_ her – or so she had thought.

Uhura deflated slightly where she sat, bringing her eyes to glare at the spotless floor. Spock _had_ told her that he was in love with her before. He had made it quite publicly known, in fact, announcing it in front of the entirety of the Enterprise crew several months ago… but since that time things had drastically changed. They had not been meeting up as often, he had not been making as strong of an effort to make time for her, and they hadn't kissed for over a week.

Uhura dropped her hair from her busy hand and reached up to gently touch her lips as the thought brushed across her mind. _We haven't kissed for over a week._ The realization was both disturbing and a free cause for worry. Why hadn't they kissed in so long? Was there a sign that she had missed, showing her that he had lost interest and had moved on? A clingy, normal woman would have found cause for panic after the first 24 hours of no kissing – but Uhura wasn't that kind of woman and they certainly didn't share the kind of relationship that required every-day attention. In fact, whenever given the opportunity, Uhura openly took what she wanted and received things the way she found appropriate… hence how she ended up on the Enterprise in the first place when Spock had initially denied her from boarding due to their relationship.

Relationship.

It just did not feel like the correct label. There were no flowers, there were no nights spent together where one of them didn't end up leaving to return to their own room, there were no dates, there were no cute nicknames – not that she particularly _wanted_ one. Perhaps 'arrangement' was a more accurate label for what they had.

The door to the bedroom slid open with ease and Uhura jumped slightly at the sound. No more than a moment later Spock stepped over the threshold, his pale features painted with a bright smile that Uhura had never seen before… and it was not made for her. As the Vulcan spotted her sitting stiffly at the foot of his precisely-made bed his smile slipped quickly away, only to be replaced with a hard line of confusion.

Uhura lifted herself from the bed quickly. "Did I forget to tell you that I was coming?" Part of her wished that she had, for then she could be at ease with the fact that he had been absent for so long.

Spock walked slowly into the center of his room, hands held behind his back in a formal-addressing way – the way he used to approach her when he was the teacher and she was the student. When the door had closed softly behind him he found it appropriate to speak, staring at the communications officer before him.

"No," he began, softly, "I recall you informing me of your intentions."

Uhura smiled, weakly, and folded her arms across her chest. "I've been waiting for you – for a while."

Spock tensed, noticeably. His eyes fell onto the same clock that Uhura had spent an hour glancing at, over and over, and his mind seemed to travel off into a different area of the ship, far away from her. "It's late."

"That's never stopped us before." She tried, flirting.

It was when Spock showed no sign of amusement – no sign of interest – and simply stood staring at her as if she were some unfamiliar stranger, that she realized something was very wrong. The half-man half-Vulcan standing before her, in that moment, was not the same half-man half-Vulcan that loved her. This man was distant, distracted, and very un-interested in anything and everything she had to offer.

That was all it took. Unwelcome pain began to nestle down deep within her gut and Uhura threw her arms wildly about her for emphasis. "Where have you been!?"

* * *

Enterprise Captain James T. Kirk pounded down the hallway, crystal blue eyes frantically glancing in and out of every open doorway that he passed by, desperately searching for something. His whole body felt like it was on fire, alive and hot. The tips of his fingers were numb with excitement and his heart was pounding in a rhythm with his fast-beating feet. He could hardly make-out the exclamations and questions that followed after him as he stalked quickly in and out of passing crew members, holding onto every intention of ignoring them each in turn. He simply could not bring himself to care what anyone had to say, for he was certain that he had never been on a more determined mission in his life.

If asked to pin-point the exact moment he had come to this conclusion, or what events had lead up to it, the young blonde-haired Captain probably wouldn't be able to identify it. Was it while he had been lying in bed the night before, conjuring up the secret pleasures he wished to explore? Was it while he had been seated at the Captain's chair, staring past the giant window at the front of the ship into the vast un-ending span of space? Or was it during his morning routine when he dropped his red toothbrush onto the floor with clumsiness? Perhaps it was slow building, perhaps it was immediate and spur-of-the-moment – either way, he had never been more certain of a personal intention in his entire life.

Rounding a corner, almost running square into a rather short, plump, red-haired woman, Kirk dashed quickly to the left and brushed painfully into the silver wall of the hallway. Rubbing in an irritated manner at the burn forming at his shoulder, he continued onward, not ready to be defeated by a near head-on collision. He wasn't about to give up, fearful that the moment he stopped irrationally rushing would be the same moment that his courage and devotion would slip away like water through open cracks. He couldn't risk losing sight of this newfound desire – not when he was _so close_ to reaching his goal.

"Jim," there it was. What he was looking for.

Halting abruptly, Kirk turned swiftly about on his heel and stared over and through several questioning and concerned faces until he found the one that addressed him.

A smile twisted its way onto the Captain's face as he watched the half-Vulcan shift down the hallway past the gawking crew members. Spock, like everyone else in the hallway, was giving Kirk a confused look – but his, unlike everyone else's, actually held Kirk's interest.

"May I inquire as to why you are stammering throughout the hallway in such a dangerous haste?" Spock asked smoothly, stopping in front of the out-of-breath Captain and quirking an eyebrow swiftly upward.

_Oh, that look._

An unidentifiable feeling twisted around the inside of Kirk's gut as he squared his shoulders and took a calming inhale deep into his air-deprived lungs. The feeling he had been driving upon was unanticipatedly heightened to a tenfold and there was no direction left for his bubbling desire to go. Holding tightly onto the last remaining composure, Kirk slowed his mind and his heartbeat long enough to morph together a sensible explanation.

"I – ah - need to speak with you," he eventually said through calming breaths.

Spock dropped his eyebrow and looked Kirk up and down, slowly, searching for an answer on – what? His clothing? Kirk ran a nervous hand through his hair, leaning awkwardly back onto his heels and clenching his jaw. Spock's dark, deep Vulcan eyes roamed up and down the Captain's torso, lingering here and there, making that internal irritating desire spring and bang against his emotional cage that desperately kept them at bay.

"Very well." The white-skinned Enterprise officer finally agreed as the once-curious crew members of the hallway began to disperse and return to their every-day business. Most of them were, presumably, heading off to their rooms to retire for the night – though that still didn't give Kirk the confidence or reassurance of privacy.

"Come with me," the Captain found himself saying, turning slightly to the left and gesturing down the hallway.

Spock fell into line beside Kirk without question or hesitation and the duo made their way agonizingly slowly down the hallway. Kirk occasionally caught himself glancing expectantly up at Spock's face as they fell into stride, his blue eyes jotting upward carefully to study the half-Vulcan's features as closely as possible, and he found a desirable feeling growing the more he allowed himself a glimpse at the man's smooth, flawless features.

If only Spock wasn't so clueless of the internal battle going on inside of his Captain's mind and body. What would Spock, the almost always together, calm, emotionless half-Vulcan, think if he knew what was going through his captain's mind? Kirk gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he rushed through a series of situations, all ending in a vision of Spock throwing him across whatever room they landed in with hopes to kill him.

When they arrived at the end of the hallway, faced with the decision to either turn around or take the elevator to the bottom floor, Kirk quickly stepped past the open doors into the small elevator with ease. Spock followed, though his stoic expression had changed into a puzzling and motionless stare into the side of Kirk's face.

The Enterprise captain ignored the quizzical stare, dancing back and forth from foot to foot as the elevator made its slow descend to the lower level of the ship where most of the mechanics and supplies were stowed away. When the room came to a smooth stop at the bottom with an informative 'ding', the doors slid wide to reveal the much darker, considerably larger bottom level of the Enterprise. At first glance there was no sign of any workers busying themselves on the machinery and it was all but empty except for the giant circular containers and the working, hissing pipes that filled the massive area.

Kirk was the first to step off, followed by a now hesitant Spock.

"Captain – " Spock began, clearly at the end of his silent 'obediently and blindly following' phase.

"Jim." Kirk corrected, shooting the pale half-Vulcan a testing glare. How many times was he going to have to correct him?

"_Jim_," Spock started again, distain and annoyance slightly leaking from his voice, "As gratifying as this meander has been, I am concerned that you may be mentally ill."

Kirk choked on his own laugh, walking forward and glancing anxiously around a few tall storage cases in search for someone or something. "And why is that?"

"As enjoyable as your inarticulateness has been, you are notorious for your incessant babbling, which has been absent." Spock followed Kirk cautiously, copying the Captain's gazes as he continued to stroll forward, checking behind every dark space and corner. "And I will not even begin to refer to your obvious anxiety."

Kirk was seemingly ignoring Spock as he spoke, though in all honesty he took every word to heart, smiling at the clueless-ness of his half-Vulcan friend. The further and further they wandered down the empty center of the room, stepping around loose wiring and puffs of steam, the more confident Kirk felt. After a few minutes of silence, in which Spock remarkably remained following Kirk in tow (probably out of concern), the Captain stopped his hasty stroll and turned around to fully face his pale friend. He wasn't sure what his intentions were, or what he was going to say – but something was going to happen.

"Jim, I am going to – "

What happened next was just as shocking to the Enterprise Captain as it was the First Officer.

Kirk quickly reached his arms forward, grasping Spock abruptly on each sides of his face, wrapping his fingers around the edges of the Officer's pointed ears, pulling their faces together until they met in the middle. In a moment as quick and subtle as a snap, the Enterprise Captain pressed his lips into Spock's, hard.

At first, Spock's entire demeanor was so full of surprise that he didn't make a move to react. His eyes may have been open – Kirk wouldn't open his to see – and he may have been glaring… but Kirk didn't care. The moment his wet, full lips landed against Spock's, rough and full of wanting, his deepest and darkest desires had been fully confirmed; he _wanted_ Spock. He wanted him in so many _forbidden_ ways that the mere thought of them together in this sensational act had sent chills of excitement through all areas of the blonde Captain's body.

The sky could literally fall down around him, and Kirk wouldn't know.

Then, as if triggered by an internal clock, the young Captain pulled slowly back, gasping at the aftershock affect the kiss suddenly had upon him.

_What have I done? _

Dropping his hands quickly from Spock's face, Kirk took a step backward and stared up in horror at the half-Vulcan's emotionless eyes. He was surely mad – pissed, even. Swallowing a heavy lump that had formed like acid in his throat, Kirk dropped his jaw to say something, unable to find the right words. What could he say? What was there to say that made what had just happened ok? Why had he _done_ that? Why!?

There was silence.

Time had stopped.

_Oh, fuck, say something…_ Kirk pleaded internally to both himself and Spock.

And just when all hope for the situation to be revived had dispersed into an invisible puff of smoke, something even _more_ surprising took place.

Spock stepped forward, quicker than Kirk had time to react, and he grabbed hold of the Captain's lean forearms, holding him as still as strength would allow. Just as sudden and rough as before, their mouths were pressed together, this time much more intense and aggressive – and it felt _so_ good.

Kirk's entire caged feelings burst free from their captivating hold and rushed through his body with an igniting spark, filling him to the point that he couldn't contain himself any longer. Swiftly and expertly the blonde man pulled his arms up and out of Spock's strong hold and grabbed back at his smooth face, this time _much_ harder. Spock pushed his body up against Kirk's in response, placing his now empty hands aggressively onto the Captain's hips, shoving him backwards into the wall.

Kirk let out a small groan as his back slammed into the wall, surprised at how much he enjoyed the feel of it as opposed to the way he had slammed into the wall earlier in the hallway. His hands began to work their way up, tangling into Spock's slicked-down black hair, grabbing the wiry locks into his fingers and pulling. Spock moaned against the Captain's lips, thrusting his hips forward and shoving his tongue freely into Kirk's mouth…

Then the elevator 'ding'ed.

Breathing as heavily as if they had both just ran a marathon, Spock and Kirk broke away from each other and wiped frantically at their mouths with the back of their blue and yellow sleeves.

"What are you two _doing_ down here?" A confused man asked as he came upon them, looking from Kirk, to Spock, and then back to Kirk.

Kirk wasn't sure what _he_ looked like – but Spock looked like he had just been steamily making out with someone.

"We – ah – we," the Enterprise Captain stammered through gasps, "We were looking for – you! There you are!" He tried, gesturing towards the man with fake relief.

"You were looking for… me?" The man replied, obviously unconvinced.

"Yes, Dave, we were looking for you." Kirk continued, lying through his teeth as he tried to distract his mind, calm his body, and lose his huge –

_Oh, fuck._

The Enterprise Captain immediately hoped it was too dark for the man to see down past his waistline.

"Stephen." The man corrected, hooking a thumb into his chest.

"Stephen, that's what I said." Kirk mumbled, growing more and more irritated with this man by the second. He decided that now was an opportune time to glance over towards Spock, which he did quickly, surprised to see that the half-Vulcan had managed to smooth his dark hair and pull what little lack of color he had lost back into his face (though, that wasn't saying much, since he was mostly pale).

"No – you said Dave." The man prodded, demanding Kirk look back at him.

"Oh! Stephen, you're right. I was looking for Dave," Kirk began, blinking at the Stephen fellow that he had honestly never seen before in his life, desperately wishing he could punch him across the temple. "Looks like he's not here. Come along, Spock."

* * *

"Where have you been!?"

Spock watched Uhura carefully, examining the way her demeanor switched from calm to angry in less than 30 seconds. On most occasions she was extremely talented in keeping her emotions together, but something had set her off on this particular evening that Spock certainly couldn't identify. Narrowing his eyes for a split second, watching as her nostrils flared and retracted in anticipation, he was suddenly awakened by the stinging feeling of guilt. Oh, and it was _quite_ an unwelcome feeling. She knew something was up – no doubt due to his recent lack of interest in her companionship.

Now the lingering question was _how_ to handle this situation.

"Are you referring to this evening or to the preceding days?" He started slowly, clasping his hands tightly behind his back and broadening his chest.

"All of it," she replied, just above a whisper, dropped her arms from their spread out reaction and taking a few steps towards him. "What's going on?"

As she asked, her voice full of concern and pain, she reached her hands softly upwards and wrapped her hands around the back of the half-Vulcan's cool neck. The feeling of her hands, once comforting and welcomed, were nothing more than a distant reminder of what had just occurred moments before in the bottom level of the ship.

Spock's mouth began to go dry as he recalled the way the encounter had made him feel. Never in his entire life had he felt more impulsive, more indulgent… more _alive_. He had once spent nights with this woman now hanging from his neck, inside of her, around her, breathing her in, _loving_ her – but never once had she made him feel the way Captain Kirk just had.

"Oh my god," Uhura's voice suddenly broke in on his mind and Spock was suddenly well aware that he was gazing off, past the woman's face, out into dangerous places. As he snapped his eyes back onto her face, Spock's soul deflated as he saw the tears rushing into Uhura's dark brown eyes. Her hands slipped slowly away from around his neck, drifting down over the blue fabric at his chest, falling down to her sides. "There's someone else."

"Nyota – "

"No," she spoke over him, stopping him mid-sentence.

Obediently, unable to muster the strength or the motivation to fight her, Spock stepped to the side and allowed Uhura to rush past him. As he watched her scramble to the door, all but keeping herself together, he was struck with the realization that this was the end of whatever companionship he once had with her.

And she left him with nothing but one, final thought.

"I understand. Three's a crowd."

**Author Note**: I realize that the elevator didn't exactly 'ding' in the movie - but I had to wing it, surely ya'll understand that. ;)


End file.
